


Blond Boy Breaks

by Everyusernmeisgone



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Betrayal, Chaos, Depressed TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), No Slash, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), President Toby Smith | Tubbo, Sad Ending, Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, dream is a literal god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28817784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everyusernmeisgone/pseuds/Everyusernmeisgone
Summary: Why had it all gone so wrong? He remembers years ago when things made sense, a family laughing, brothers playing and father watching with a smile - why did it have to change?There was no going back though, he knew that now.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dream SMP Ensemble & TommyInnit, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 254





	Blond Boy Breaks

“Do you think I wanted this?”

  
Flames roared across the landscape, burning remnants of a time now lost crumble away in the fiery haze. What once was a proud nation lay in tatters with the flag in pieces and its soul in ruins. Seek and destroy, the flames scoured through the area, hunting its prey with the viciousness of lions. No mercy would be given tonight.

  
“I never asked for this!”

A young boy screams - shouts and cries in barely hidden agony at those who have failed him. He curses them all for what they have done and for what they haven’t. Blond curls covered in ash and dust, his once bright soul now enveloped in the same darkness that smothers his locks. A broken boy stands and stares at the people who once trusted - the people he once loved. Disbelief is in his eyes, or is it instead pained resignation for some part of him knew this was always the end. He’d been told before that no one was on his side and yet he had clung, some might say naively, to the idea that people could still be kind. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

“I thought you were better!”

A ghost hovers on the side, wondering why does this hurt? He sees the tears that run down the boys face and deep inside his phantom heart he feels a pain that he can’t remember ever feeling before and yet it’s oddly familiar. Why is there an urge to run - run to the boy and wipe away the tears, to hold him close and promise to never leave him. Promise? It’s a word that rings a bell in his brain but whatever it’s connected to he can’t reach. His head hurts. He doesn’t like this at all. 

“This was my home!”

Golden crown rests on his head, flickering firelight reflects off of its gleaming surface almost seeming blinding to the eyes around. Standing proudly in the carnage he revels in the satisfaction of the chaos. It’s a strange sort of contentment that he feels, the rubble and ash are his trophy in this pit of despair. “Success,” the wind whispers, “Victory.” The blood that stains the ground is a comforting sight to the hardened warrior, the voices cheer at the darkened crimson that splatters on the gravel. He’s done the right thing, hasn’t he? “Blood,” they shriek in glee. “We hurt him,” they hiss back, “you did that.” They don’t calm, no, their arguing increases and he struggles to discern what the outcome will be. 

  
“It was OUR home!”

Memories play through his mind, the president of a broken nation wishes he’d never held power. His mind whispers of old times, of fun and friendship, of a bond so deep it rivalled the ocean itself - a bond broken by corruption of a mind. He turns his head to the side and watches as a bench burns in the distance, crumbling to ash with the rest of the land. Mistakes realized too late will forever haunt the president of this lost land.

“Fuck you!”

Oh his sweet child, how he failed him. What kind of parent was he? Abandoning his youngest when times got tough. He stares at the crying child in front of him, watching as the boy sobs and screams at the top of his lungs. That’s all he does though - watch. Even when he’s realized his failing, he doesn’t have the courage to try to amend it. He’ll regret it for the rest of his days but in this moment he doesn’t make a move towards the boy who is breaking before his eyes. Instead, he stands beside the warrior as he always does. He won’t change his ways and the boy knows it.

“Fuck all of you!”

To a god, humans plights are pathetic but he will admit that to see this human in particular so broken is… interesting. The boy who had once even scared him - a god in all sense of the word - was reduced to this weeping mess. It’s always a shame when a toy breaks but it’s no hassle for him to just get a new one. He’s been playing this game for a long time after all. There’s a saying, “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” It’s always rather humorous to him how close a human got to understanding. After all, when one has the world at their fingertips, things like morals and empathy are rather boring in comparison. This is his world and he’ll play the games he wants to, when a soldier doesn’t get in line, well, they’re not irreplaceable. 

“Fuckers.”

  
The boy’s screams start to die out and he’s left with only shaking sobs wracking through his frame. Eyes stained red and heart cracked in two, he stares at them all. The anger and misery is erasing itself from his eyes leaving a blank stare in its place. It’s unsettling to the audience. This is no longer the boy they knew; the boy full of laughs and jokes, the boy who ran without fear and fought with a grin - that boy is gone now. The one stood before them was one who could no longer smile in the face of agony for the pain had grown to be too much and it had swallowed him whole. Their betrayal of his heart had splintered it. 

A blonde boy stared at his burning home and choked on a cry, “it was never meant to be.”


End file.
